Emily Amandus A Hufflepuff went astray
by jibar
Summary: Emily is a Hufflepuff and prides herself on that. She has one problem though: Most people see her as a stupid and naïve clutz. She decides to change Hogwarts ... more inside!
1. Prologue

Genre: Comedy with a lot of sarcasm, black humour and few delusions of grandeur.

Main characters: Emily Amandus, Chester Corniculas, Regulus Black, Farabella Purcell, Marauders, and many more.

Synopsis: Emily is a Hufflepuff and prides herself on that. She has one problem though: Most people see her as a stupid and naïve clutz. She decides to change Hogwarts and also change the balance of power. But what is she supposed to do as only one student of one of the four houses? The bet with Farabella Purcell, the arrogant Sirius-loving Ravenclaw is all Emily needs to continue with her plan. Emily seems to have claimed to proverb "The higher you climb, the harder you fall." for herself when everything is spinning out of control and not even her slightly strange best friend Chester seems inclined to help her out this time.

Author's note: This fanfiction was written to clear up with all the clichés you have most likely come across. If you believe in all those clichés this fanfiction is most likely not for you. I will not ignore logic and background but if you like reading classic Marauder fanfictions, this might not suit you. I will not deal with Lily/James but instead many of your darlings might come under fire …

Translator's note: This is one of my favorite (German) Marauder fanfictions. I recently started my bachelor's degree for Translation and thought it only fitting to start translating for real. I hope you enjoy it! Also, I'm searching for a Beta reader. If you enjoy the story and would like to beta it, send me a private message!

How do you imitate a Slytherin so that people believe it? I have been asking myself this question for a long time, which is why I will examine the behaviour of the so called Snakes in order to, should the opportunity arise, I would be able to imitate it. Of course, I would use my acquired knowledge only to completely ruin the commonly pure blooded students of House Slytherin.

These are my results. I compiled them in my black book of secrets via attentive observation and stubbornness:

Slytherins only appear in packs.

They have the emotional range of a rock.

Morals and solidarity are like foreign words to them.

They never say anything without a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Most of their clothes (and their souls) are black. And that is true for every season.

Their motto: Every Slytherin for himself, but they attack Gryffindors as a pack.

Sexual relationships with members of the other houses are like a sport to them, sometimes even interpreted as challenges: Who managed to snag the hot Ravenclaw first?

Hufflepuffs are the dirt under their shoes.

The last key point on this obviously brilliant list is the thing that I – Emily Amandus – want to eradicate from the world, or rather Hogwarts. Enough is enough! Why do these arrogant chavs think that we Hufflepuffs will ignore their ridiculing and hurtful behaviour any longer? The times were they were able to oppress us are officially over! Oh yes … I will start the revolution as well as the following era of badger-authority. Our patience has started to wear out.

I scratch my forehead with the end of my quill. The problem with this plan is that nobody besides myself knows of these struggles for power. The Hufflepuffs are as much in the dark as the Slytherins. How should I shed light on this revolutionary idea? Should I just stand up from this comfortable armchair and recite my revolutionary speech to the lurking Hufflepuffs?

No, that would not go over well. Hufflepuffs are neither known for their aggressions nor for their desire for revenge. I think they would sooner declare me crazy and never listen to me again.

Okay, I think I might have lost some credentials already. That is easily explained by my erratic temper and my desire to change … everything. Also, I am known for my _phases_, which have changed a lot in the last six years I have been attending this boarding school. My last phase – and I remember it with horror – turned me into a girl who only wore green clothes and demanded to be called Isolde the Pasturing. I know, I sound idiotic and not at all like the fifteen-year-old girl I was happened to be but I thought it was time we all paid nature some respect.

The Whomping Willow, a quite rabid but also very lovable tree on the grounds, saved my life after all, by keeping the two gorilla-like Slytherins Kayden Lewis and Gizem Farrel off my back when they tried to entertain themselves by insulting me. You can't imagine my relief when I was finally rid of them.

Anyway, my fellow Hufflepuffs would most likely denote my desire to fight the Slytherins as another phase and decide not to join me. Obviously I would have to find another solution. Something done in secret, maybe. But how? Perhaps I should provoke the Slytherins into attacking me, so that my friends would be forced to help me and fight them? Well, a nice idea but most Hufflepuffs were scaredy-cats at best. And Gryffindors were always so annoyingly helpful.

Yes, Gryffindors. As I am talking about those I can't stand I simply cannot _not_ talk about the lions. They are incredibly haughty, pretend to know everything, suck at losing, addicted to attention, two-faced, totally demented, abnormally helpful, heroic without bounds, ...oh, I have a gigantic list of negative traits but it's much easier to just examine two paragons of those traits.

To start with, we have an egocentric, sometimes schizophrenic and quite articulate lady's man. Yes, you all know (and most likely love) him. A giant applause for Sirius Black, the Casanova who screws anything with a heartbeat. To his credit, he steers clear of the female Slytherins but every other female in this school has to watch her step, or she might find herself in a broom cupboard with the god of love himself.

The second part of the duo, who definitely doesn't go through less girls and is quite good with his balls (the quaffle, obviously!), is James Potter himself! His acting talent can most likely be described as trailblazing since he has been feigning undying love for Lily Evans for almost two months. To me it's still incredible that he managed to stay with only one girl for so long. Or rather, that she was able to stay with him.

"Ems, what are you doing?" A voice I know almost too well interrupts my important thoughts.

"Nothing that concerns you, Ches."

"Really? I want to see that." Chester grins and sits down on an armchair next to mine. I study him for a moment. Chester Corniculas has always been one of my best friends. Last year we were in a short relationship which didn't work because he's very clingy and jealous. I broke up with him. Sadly though, that doesn't stop him from clinging to me anyway and that happens to be quite annoying at times. Of course it's flattering that he's always there when I have a problem or just need a shoulder to cry on, but I seriously do not need him to shadow my every step.

Chester doesn't blend well in a crowd. Not that he is a classic beauty like Sirius Black, most certainly not. Most people stare at Chester because he has that certain something. He has a very clear glint to his green eyes, his skin is very pale and since his black hair would normally simply lie around on his head he styles it with a questionable spell into a Mohawk. In addition to that, his clothes are also very adventurous. He usually wears torn jeans with dragon-leather shoes, but I have also seen him in a flannel shirt and a dog collar, so …

"That's nothing, I swear." I quickly stuff my book of secrets into my bag.

"Don't tell me that you have a new phase in the works, Isolde?"

"Haha, not funny." I say humourlessly and get up. I glance at my bag with a demotivated sigh.

"Oh, you're not finished with classes yet?"

"Nope." I start toward the exit and when I pass Chester, he starts to stretch and touches my butt as if by accident. I send a withering look his way, but I only get one of his trademark grins in return.

"Well, what do you have to suffer through? Transfiguration or potions? I can never remember your schedule." He tries to change the subject while getting up. I know he wants to intimidate me with his superior height. He doesn't like it when someone can look down on him. Actually, we got into an argument about that when we were in a much hotter situation …

"Potions."

"Of course. Send my love to Fara-mousie." He winks at me but I only turn my back to him without saying anything at all. While averting a cluster of first years I start walking toward the entrance of the common room. Which, as you might find interesting, is neither a door nor a portal of some sort. No, it's nothing more than a human-shaped hole in the wall. It's only covered with a opaque and soundproof curtain of strings. Anyone who tries to enter without knowing the password is pulled into a tight hold by these strings. I tested it in my first year, but the curtain seemed to know I was playing it. I don't know of any casualties, at least nothing official happened. Although I can imagine that if someone had been seriously hurt by our curtain the professors would have been the first to cover it up.

"I might pick you up after classes, okay? We could walk toward the sunset, play with the leaves and gather chestnuts. Mmh … doesn't that sound great?" Chester yells after me, I look back once but I don't give him an answer as I step through the strings into the well lighted basement hallway.

It doesn't even take me five minutes to reach the dungeons, since they are not that far from the actual basement. I'm waiting on our teacher, professor Slughorn, with a lot of non-Hufflepuffs (I'm the only representative of my house in this class). Said professor appear a few minutes later, including his massive belly and a blessed smile on his face. "Isn't life wonderful?" He asks us with a happy sigh and targets me especially, which I take as a prompt to answer him:

"Yes yes, Felix Felicis can certainly perform miracles."

"You have a great sense of humour, Miss Amandus." says Slughorn good-naturedly and enters the class room so we can all get to our desks without him obstructing the door. As always, I'm forced to sit with the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws. I grind my teeth and throw my stuff unto the desk.

"Let's get started." Slughorn tugs at his turquoise coloured jacket. For a second I imagine the pain the stressed buttons would inflict if they were to pop off. He reaches for a phial and shows it to us.

"Let's revive your grey matter a little, yes? Can anyone tell me what this is?" I raise my hand, just as two Slytherins do the same. The girls I'm sitting with haven't even caught the question since they are busy gossiping. I'm sure the juicy bits couldn't have waited until after classes were finished …

"Miss Amandus." The professor points in my general direction and I start explaining.

" It's the Wolfsbane Potion. Easily recognizable because of the faint blue smoke and known for its bitter taste."

"Exactly. And this one?" He picks up another phial and I raise my hand again, but Slughorn chooses to give Regulus Black a chance to show off his knowledge.

"That's the Draught of Living Death. You are able to tell because of its water-like colouring. The drinker is send into a death-like slumber and nothing is able to wake him again."

"Excellent! Five points to Slytherin." Slughorn awards Regulus with a happy smile as well, and I become a little aggressive. Why hadn't he given me any points for my house? I stop listening to Slughorn in protest. I know everything there is about Potions anyway since my father is a healer in St. Mungo's and he rammed his knowledge down my throat the second I was able to understand what a potion was. In any case, I start listening to the mindless whispering at my table.

"I think Regulus' voice is very similar to his brother's." Beverly Joyner giggles and looks surreptitiously at the Slytherin in question. Cindy Doss who is Sirius' current _mattress _feels the need to protest:

"Stop it! Sirius never has so much coldness or meaninglessness in his voice. He is always passionate."

"Exactly. Don't tell Sirius you have started comparing him to his stupid brother. You know they don't get along." Cassandra Davis is of the same opinion and looks almost disgustingly when she says it. There is no doubt about who that disgust is reserved for.

"Regulus is but a bad copy of Sirius. I mean, he isn't even as handsome but his character … well, there has to be a reason everyone calls him a cunning bastard, who attacks girls in dark alleys, right?" Farabella Purcell decides to toss in her two knuts and flips her blonde curls. I hate her. In order to provoke them I take Regulus' side, my hatred for Farabella trumps my general hatred of Slytherins by far.

"I think Sirius created that rumour. I heard Regulus is an excellent lover." Farabella looks at me with contempt in her eyes but I notice that Regulus' attention is on me as well. Did he hear me? Merlin, no one has ears that good, right? I shudder at the mere thought of him thinking of me as an ally. But since I hadn't been able to keep my mouth shut again I would have to grasp the nettle.

"And who told you that, Hufflepuff?" The blond bird smirks at me and I smile triumphantly – what a great question. It's the perfect template for this:

"Well, from the same person who told me that Sirius' wang is quite overburdened. So much in fact that 'nothing' happened a few times already. I'm really sorry for you but it seems like none of you will be able to achieve your lifetime goal of becoming one of his one night stands." Out of the corner of my eye I can see a small smile forming on Regulus' lips before he turns back to the professor. Great, I entertained a snake. Farabella gasps resentfully while I decide to refer to her as Fara only. I don't need to waste my precious time on irrelevant stuff.

"That's just presumptuous, Hufflepuff! Sirius merely had a one time accident is what I heard!" I blink a few times, but then I burst out laughing. Slughorn stops mid-sentence.

"Do you mind telling us what is so funny, Miss Amandus?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm sorry, professor." I snort with laughter a couple of times and Slughorn continues with his lesson.

"How can you laugh at Sirius?" Fara looks horrified, and I smile when I answer her.

"Sorry for my blasphemous remark." She narrows her mouse-grey eyes to mere slits and her friends to the same.

"You bit off more than you can chew, Hufflepuff. I bet you hate him because he sent you packing." Theatrically, I grab at my heart as if in pain.

"Oh Merlin – you are so right!" It seems like Fara doesn't know what to say to that – she just opens and closes her mouth a few times – I smirk at her with a daring twinkle in my eyes.

"Seriously, though, we all know Sirius isn't exactly picky about who he sleeps with. It's not even a challenge. I bet if you ask him politely, he would do you."

"Yes? And that from the girl whose only ridiculous relationship was with a deranged freak?" She says viciously and crossed a line with that. I had stuck to the facts but of course she had to turn to insults. How dare she insult my Cester like that and denote our relationship as ridiculous?

I lean forward so that I can see the nice clear skin of the Ravenclaw in all its glory.

"Pick one student, it doesn't matter. Pick one student and I will convince him to go to Hogsmeade with me. You will have to do the same with Sirius."

"Didn't you just go on and on about how he wasn't picky?"

I raise an eyebrow. "He's not picky about who he shares a bed with, but Hogsmeade? That's reserved for his friends. His Marauder friends at that. I don't know a girl who was able to achieve that kind of commitment from him."

"Deal. Sirius won't be a problem. Have fun with Regulus."

I try not to look too shocked and try to put up a brave front. But my surliness must have shown through since Fara starts to smirk like Grindelwald himself and reaches for my hand to seal the deal.

"If you can't get Regulus to go to Hogsmeade with you you will have to proclaim your undying love for Sirius in front of the entire student body. You will have to say that you lust for his body and that you would die without him."

"Okay … if you lose, then..." I pretend to think about it, but I have known exactly what I would ask of her the moment we started talking about the bet. "If you lose you have to stay at Peter Pettigrew's side for an entire day and make sheep's eyes at him. I think that will effectively end all relationships. Present or future." The corner of Fara's mouth twitches a little, I bet she is gauging her chances. She must think she will win because she accepts.

"Okay. You're on. There are enough witnesses to make sure none of us backs out." A tortured smile appears on my lips since all of the witnesses are her friends so it's hardly fair but what can you do …

After our handshake we glare at each other with hatred in our eyes before I turn back to Slughorn. He points at a book on his table and tells us to open our own in order to brew a potion called Prurigo [lat. to itch]. It is famous for being used to children's birthday parties in order to raise the mood. While working, I touch my forehead more than once. I can't believe I'm still right in the head. I had just agreed to woo a Slytherin …


	2. Encounters of the Third Kind

I'm so very sorry for the long wait! My semester began again and let's just say my professors don't intend to make this an easy one. Also, I'm knee-deep in planning for my semester abroad this fall, so most hobbies are put on hold for now. However, I decided to put some time in today to finish this chapter at least. Have fun!

* * *

><p>When the bell finally rings and ends the lesson, everyone brings their phials to professor Slughorn's desk, I catch a breath and pack my bag. And since I'm in desperate need of a battle plan I hurry out of the classroom. I don't intend to lose this bet, no matter the chances!<p>

"Wow!" Chester, who had been propped against the wall, looks suprised and musters me with a frown on his face.

"What kind of a flobberworm crawled up your behind?"

"The usual suspect." I answer him in a toneless voice and grab my friend's arm to drag him into one of the side corridors that lead towards the Great Hall. I have to take a walk through Mother Nature right now. I'm sure that will help me think and Chester will most likely be happy as well, what with the opportunity to throw some leaves around.

"What happened? Was Bello mean to you? Do I have to suss her out?" He starts to roll up his sleeves. I laugh a little. His creation 'Bello', which is obviously derived from Farabella, never fails to amuse me.

"I don't think that would do me any good. I wasn't able to keep my mouth shut again." I admit and furrow my brows in frustration. Chester looks at me curiously.

"Really? Don't tell me you dropped blasphemous remarks about Sirius Black?"

My shoulders slouch deeper. "It started with that but I proposed a bet: She has to convince the older Blacky-Sweetie to go to Hogsmeade with her and I … well, I have to do the same with his most likely dearest brother."

Chester falls back but catches up to me quickly. His eyes are big and round. "Are you serious?"

"Sadly, yes. And the stakes are just terrible and inhuman."

"You would have to blow Snape's nose?" He scratches his forehead thoughtfully. "That would take aeons of time and would be utterly disgusting."

"That's not it." I disagree coldly and lower my voice because a group of Gryffindors are coming our way.

"I'd have to announce my undying love for S. B. Publicly." Just to be saved I had opted for his initials, with my luck these Gryffindors had Regulus' hearing.

"That you love Sirius Black?" Yells Chester which renders my efforts useless. The lions are passing us now and stare at me with disgust.

"Not everyone needs to know that!" I snap at him and hit his shoulder. He giggles a little.

"I'd say you're in deep trouble, darling."

"You said it. I mean, if I were to confess my alleged love to Sirius I would tear my self-respect apart. I would never be able to look into the mirror again."

"No matter, you don't do that often anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask him with an edge to my voice. Chester laughs again – he has a terrible sense of humour.

"Well, statistically speaking you look at yourself in a mirror only four and a half times a day. You would be able to stand that, right?"

I furrow my brows while we are approaching the entrance hall. "How can you look into the mirror not once but … just half?"

"I guess you could do that if you were Frankestein's monster. You could just take off half of your face at a whim." He shrugs.

"Oookay. Seems plausible. But since I'm not going to lose the bet, I doubt S. B. is going to be an issue. I just have to convince Regulus to go to Hogsmeade with me. But how?"  
>"I look at my companion but he doesn't look like he's thinking about anything at all. I sigh irritatedly. I always have to drag everything out of him.<p>

"Ches, that wasn't a rhetorical question. Say something!"

"Plumpudding."

"Something within context!" He giggles like a child that just did something forbidden and I have the sudden urge to smack him against the wall with a well placed _Levi Korpus_. After he nearly suffocates himself after he sees the dangerous glint in my eyes, he pulls himself together and explains to me in a objective tone: "Well, I guess you would have to sleep with him just to make sure he knows you exist. If you take that in consideration, you would probably have to kill someone for him in order to get him to go to Hogsmeade with you."

I think about telling my accomplice that Regulus Black knows full well that I exist and most likely even knows my name but I refrain from doing so. I can imagine what that kind of behaviour would lead Chester to think. "I'm pessimistic about your romantic relationship with Black. Your chances are black like the Black." He laughs at his own stupid joke and I shake my head. We are walking down the steps toward the grass in front of the castle.

"Just great." I let my gaze wander over the estates of the castle and realize that it might be forbidden to be outside at this hour. Chester may be a prefect (yes, I doubt the sanity of our Headmaster on this specific decision) but I'm sure that doesn't allow him to be outside at the brink of curfew. Let alone myself. "Maybe we should have gone to dinner instead of loitering around here." I say thoughtfully and look at the cabin of the gamekeeper. I had been terribly afraid of his apprentice Rubeus Hagrid my first year.

"Why? Are you afraid of the dark?"

"I'm not. I just don't want to be caught."

"Ne-e-rd."

I don't get a chance to counter him because four Gryffindors just materialized in front of us – thanks Merlin, my day isn't rotten enough already. They are the notorious Marauders. Of course, it's almost a certainty that you would meet them outside in the dark. They fancy punishments, I say.

Well … we stop almost at the same time. They scrutinize us for a second until they notice the Hufflepuff emblem stitched to our cloaks. Their expressions turn to faked concern.

"Have you lost your way? I heard it happens to your kind, you know … losing your way between the greenhouses and the castle and ending up in the forbidden forest. So, can we show you the way back?" Mr. Everyone-loves-me-Black takes the opportunity to address us and sends me a blinding smile. Potter just laughs. I almost feel my fuses blow. Would you remain calm if someone doubted your state of mind like that?

"_Black_." The vigor in the small word prompts him to raise an eyebrow. I guess he expected a thankful 'yes'.

"If you don't have anything better to do than to harass other people with your questionable offers of help, then please do us all a favour and shut up. It's stupid of you to assume people like me don't have a sense of direction, especially since my IQ is most likely much higher than yours." Black lets out a guffaw and I can just stop myself from ramming my wand between his ribs.

"That was a good one!" He wipes a few tears out of his eyes and rubs his stomach.  
>"Pad, I think she's serious." Remus Lupin who I have pegged as the smartest of the bunch, is of course dead on. Black hiccups a couple of times before he looks at me again. I can still see his dark-grey eyes laughing.<p>

"What's your name, Hufflepuff."

I put my arms akimbo and beg Chester in my thoughts to punch Black but it doesn't seem like my friend is willing to do so, given the muscles of these guys.

"That's none of your freaking business." I'm cocky, I admit it. I try to hold my own against his urgent gaze. He grins again and I have to ask myself whether he likes being insulted. Maybe I have discovered a perverse strand of his? I should definitely rub Fara's nose in it.

"Touchy much?" He dares to ask me. Instead of me, though, Remus groans lowdly – I start to like Remus, but Black doesn't pay him any attention.

"Honestly, Black. It's too late for me to move down to your standard. So how about we each go our own way?"

James Potter appears to have experienced a flash of genius because he flips his fingers and points at me. Black is spared of any answer.

"Now I remember where I have seen you before!"

"Merlin save us all! He used his brains!" I groan again, but he ignores it. My God, are all of them so ignorant concerning insults? Maybe I should do a study on it. I could start a marathon of insults and create a bar graph with all the results – what a great idea …

"You play Quidditch for Hufflepuff, right? Now that I think about, you are a beater!"

"Wow … if that isn't a position just made for a petite girl like you." Black says ironically and exchanges a look with his bosom buddy, presumably because of an inside joke.

"Buy yourself some glasses, Black, I'm not petite, okay? And besides, it was the only vacant spot and it's still much better then the 'I-utilize-shouts-of-joy-and-throw-tomatoes-at-the-other-team spot' you seem to own.

"Mini-pumpkins."

"What?"

The siamese twins start to laugh out loud, then Potter starts to explain with a few giggles here and there. "He used mini-pumpkins: hard on the outside, very soft on the inside. Quite sticky and they stink to high heaven."

"Disgusting – they were almost impossible to get out of my hair!" I shriek, maybe a little bitchy. I ask myself whether Chester has turned to stone. Maybe I should check his pulse, just to make sure he is still alive?

"Oh, I'm sorry about your pretty curls. Next time we won't throw them at you, darling." I groan – this conversation, if you can even call it that, is making me tired. I reach for Chester's hand and I drag him away from the club of brain-amputees.  
>"Hey! Hey, you could at least tell me your name, honey!" Black shouts after me and Chester sucks in air because I'm probably squeezing his hand too hard.<p>

"Breathe in … breath out. Ems, I know you can do it. Breathe in, breathe out."

"Shut up!" I shriek and try to ignore the laughter of the so called Marauders. "And you could have opened your mouth when I was verbally attacked by those idiots!"

Chester cocks his head and sports one of his charming smiles. His mohawk sways with the movement of his head. "Ems, please. You didn't even need my support. Your oestrogen as good as killed my testosterone, biologically speaking."

"Don't get smart with me - you could have punched him or something!"

Chester scoffs and we turn at the same time to avoid the Forbidden Forest. "You did notice his muscles, right? I mean his chest alone is huge, almost frighteningly so."

"So? You could have cursed him to rescue our honour at least." I won't relent on this.

"I think that guy has more OWLs than allowed, honestly. And I should have put him in his place with magic?" He sighs. "It doesn't matter now, does it? We shouldn't let these negative thoughts ruin the pretty sunset - think of your feng shui!"

I mutter in my non existing beard and decide against a retort. Instead, I shove my hands in the pockets of my black cloak and come to a halt next to Chester in front of the lake. The sun is sinking on the horizon and with one brave glow disappears from the sky. The sudden darkness makes me shiver, and the continuing silence irks me.

"See, that's the North Star right there." I disrupt the silence and point to the star. Chester raises his eyebrows and looks at me.

"That's the handle of the Plough."

"Not true!" I exclaim as if surprised and and ironic smile appears on my lips. He grins as well and pinches me playfully. It doesn't appear very playful to me, since I am balancing my weight on one leg only and his pinch sends me stumbling down the slight hillside. Of course a rock has found its way into my path and after my foot catches on it, I fall and suddenly sit on my buttocks right beside the lake. Of course I also have to endure the laughing fit of my - former - best friend ...

"Sorry, Ems!" He keeps giggling but soon after realizes the deadly sincerity of his current situation. He starts running away from me - the Hufflepuff version of You Know Who - in order to escape my wrath. But my nickname "furious boar" is no accident. In fact, it stems from one of my more primitive phases. Like a panther I take up the chase and jump onto my prey's back, which is still giggling like crazy.

Chester is stronger than he looks, I have to find out, because he simply takes hold of my legs so I can't climb down again. He starts running like crazy, right across the grounds of Hogwarts. I feel like a little girl, because my father organized a pony for my seventh birthday. Sadly, the pony thought it was supposed to perform a rodeo show ...

Well, the lesson is clear: Gryffindors really are as disgusting as I always though and my I will be able to complete my homework tonight with much more precision. Chester will most likely sleep in an armchair for most of the evening due to exhaustion. He will most likely have a stiff neck from that tomorrow, and that thought turns my smile a little gleeful.


	3. Stories of a Cupboard

You know what's weird? I finished this chapter last year. Translating it, that is! I never uploaded it and I can't for the life of me remember why. But I got so many Emails about reviews (like, 4 or so in very few weeks, which is a lot for a fic that hasn't been updated since forever) so I went through my folder and noticed that the next chapter is half done as well! Go figure, I'm so diligent!

Well, in any case: I'm moving to Brussels soon for a semester abroad. I have four weeks until then, maybe I'll get some time in to translate this. Maybe I won't. You'll just have to bear with me. I'm sorry.

Enjoy !

Chapter Two

**Stories Of A Cupboard**

As I was sitting in my History of Magic class the next day – it is a Tuesday-; I muse without a break on how to speak to Regulus or to somehow call his attention to myself. Everything is pretty dodgy, because the first point on my list proves to be self-fulfilling anew – I never meet Regulus alone. He's always surrounded by other snakes, by affectedly giggling girls, by dimwitted grinning boys and the rest of his court. At the moment I'm considering the idea of ambuscading him in the boys' toilet but I'm dismissing this idea because of ethnical reasons. Besides he doesn't seem to be able to go to the toilet alone, he can't wipe off his own hindquarters presumably – I don't know - but my mood is on a new low point anyway since I saw Bello walking to lunch while linking arms with Sirius Black. Can you believe it? She had but a few hours to make a pass at him – oh, I'm doomed!

"Miss Marandus."

"Amandus…" I rectify Professor Binns absentmindedly.

"Can you answer my question?"

The ghost is floating in front of me and targets me out of tired eyes whereupon I set myself upright in my chair and dart a help seeking glance at Chester, who is sprawling beside me and rubbing his neck.

"Analustre the troll?" I guess happily and put the best version of my angel face up but Binns only wrinkles his forehead.

"You think, Miss Marandus, that Analustre the troll married Lady Bordeaux in 1647?"

I squirm in my chair and moisten my lips with my tongue – I hate it when a teacher, even a dead one, catches me when I'm not paying attention.

"Well. Analustre passed betimes for being pretty gallant and charming." I smile bravely and Chester is holding his nose to stop himself from laughing out loud – what a companion …

Professor Binns points with a scrawny, half transparent forefinger at me. "You're going to hand an essay about Analustre the troll to me tomorrow. Three rolls."

I squint at his finger and nod faithfully. "Of course. I'm really inconsolable because of my brief inadvertence." The sleepy look of my teacher is focused on me for a short moment longer but I register anyway that I consoled him with my magniloquent words – or he noticed that it's totally out of character for him to use such passionate gestures – for him – like a pointing forefinger.

The rest of the lesson isn't very sensational and rather peaceful. Chester's shining with his multifarious general knowledge of the history of our ancestors again and I fall back into my thoughts only to some extent – I'm not stupid and I learn from my mistakes.

When the bell finally rings and Chester and I are walking slowly to dinner in the Great Hall I'm attacked by an acquaintance. He reaches us from an adjoining corridor from the second floor and is totally hysteric – Rodrick Blevins. You have to know only one thing about him: He's suffering under every existing phobia. Let it be a social phobia, which means he's afraid of every person without a reason, or a more popular arcnophobia (fear of spiders), or the erythrophobia, which is pretty exotic because he's afraid of the color red. I could continue this list into infinity, but since humans are ephemeral my time is too precious for that …

"Emily, Emily, Emily!" he screams panicked and I'm fearing that he might have caught a glimpse of my red panties.

"Yes, Rodrick?"

"It's …. Merlin, it is my ending!" he wheezes and snatches my hand like it's natural. Chester is stopping to lean against a wall, bored. He knows that it could take ages until I've calmed this chicken enough to leave him behind again. You're probably asking yourself why that's my job. Well, the dear Rodrick is my cousin (his mother, my father's sister, changed her name after the wedding) and that's entitling me – unfortunately – to restrain him when's he's trying to jump off the Astronomy Tower after someone put a spider on his pillow again. Relatives are something cauterizing …

"Okay, Rod. What happened?"

"What happened?" he whispers horror-struck and shakes like a leaf. "My death sentence was just signed, Ems! This is my ending, my ending. And I'm only fifteen. My prime of life is still ahead of me and I have to depart this life already. Where is the equity? Just where?"

Chester is stroking his torso with his hand absentmindedly and picks up lint from his pullover – I lose the thread temporarily.

"Errh, Rod." I cough insistent and turn towards my blood relative altogether. "Just tell me why you're going to die. Perhaps because … of a spider?"

Rodrick 's eyes are wide and he looks like he just lost it – okay, he always looks like that - and screams hysterically:

"Where's the spider?!"

I'm forcing myself to inhale deeply and grab my cousin by his shoulder. "Here-is-no-spider! I just want to know why you're beside yourself. Otherwise I can't help you." Well, technically help's already too late for him, but I don't have to tell him that right now.

"Beth- … Bethany." he presses with gridded teeth and throws a hectic glance over his shoulder – ah, there's the paranoia.

"Bethany Tubill? The one who's in your year?"

He just nods but his whole body is shaking.

"Great, and what did she do?"

"Shewants cupboard wymee."

Oh well, the only thing I understood was 'cupboard', but that is a beginning, right?

"And what does she want with a cupboard, Rod?"

"Broom."

That wasn't the answer I had hoped for. "Broom? Okay and where do you come in?" I ask objectively.

"Bethany wants to go into a broom cupboard with him, Ems." Interferes Chester sighing and Rodrick screams hysterically again – he hadn't noticed Chester yet, probably.

"Okay, but that's great, right?"

"Claus- …" he presses with effort and my patience is coming to an end. "Darn it – Rodrick! Just tell me what's going on. Who the heck is Claus?"

"Ems." Chester interferes again. "He's talking about Claustrophobia. Bethany wants to go into a broom cupboard with him, the cupboard is pretty small which means he has a problem with his agoraphobia."

My cousin stares at Mr. Know-It-All like he's some sort of hero whereon I let my shoulders slump. But then Rod looks back to me.

"So, tell me Emily, what should I do?"

"Just tell her that you'll have to meet in a bigger room et viola – nothing's in the way of uncontrolled sex." The chicken stares at me flabbergasted – did I say something wrong?

"Bethany told me that she just wanted to learn herbology!"

I raise an eyebrow doubtfully and Chester chuckles. "Why would she want to do that in a dark broom cupboard? Please, Rod. I think the girl's a deep one – she wants to seduce you, dearest cousin."

"But …. But…" stammers the curly head in front of me and has turned considerably pale.

"Don't tell me you suffer from esodophobia too?!" asks Chester with a lopsided grin and I crinkle my forehead. "That's fear of the first act of sex."

"Why do you know things like that?" I want to know amused.

"I have the technical literature, babe." He whispers very sexy (and very loudly) in my ear which unsettles Rodrick even more.

"I'm refusing to tolerate you talking like that to my cousin, Chester! And you, Emily, I have very bustling contact to your parents so don't march to a different drummer, young Lady, or you're going to be in a lot of trouble!"

I chuckle amused because Rodrick had sounded like my respectable Grandfather Charley Vincent Amandus – a veteran from the war against Grindelwald 1945 – and that's just ridiculous in consideration of my strange cousin. But of course I'm not taking this blackmailing because of this boloney – that would be even better!

"Rodrick, tell me to who you run when you've discovered another personal apocalypse?" I ask with a voice as sweet as sugar and my opposite wrinkles his forehead.

"Well, to you but what has that got to do with my statement?"

"Very easy." My voice becomes more creaky and first of all quite a few degrees cooler.

"Your dear cousin Emily is going to give a shit about all of your problems from now on, got that?" I turn around with a lot of grace and want to strut away, but the little one is backpedalling pretty fast.

"Ems. Emily, I didn't mean it, okay? We're friends, right? And friends help each other."

I turn around with an innocent look on my face. Chester is still leaning against the wall and is following the trajectory of a housefly with his eyes.

"Well, Rod we're only true friends if you promise me that nothing that you're going to find out about me is going to transpire to my parents, okay? What happens in Hogwarts stays in Hogwarts."

"I … okay, but then you have to promise me that you're not going to engage yourself with misbegotten sexual intercourses." The look in his eyes is strangely determined and single-minded.

"Oops." Comments Chester in buoyant spirits his plea whereon I dart a destructive glance at him.

"What's that supposed to mean, Emily?" asks Rod disgusted.

"Nothing, Rod. You know that Chester talks the whole blessed day long. But we have to eat now. And I advise you to talk to Bethany about your problem. Have a nice evening." I say that in about five seconds and grab Chester by his arm and drag him into the Great Hall without fuss or quibble. Rodrick seems to be taken too much by surprise to say anything.

"You exorbitant idiot! Do you have to push my luck like that?!" I spit at my sometimes mentally disabled friend.

"Unequivocally equivocal, sugar pearl." Chester chuckles whereon I push him ungraciously into a group of first-years and continue to strut away.

"Aw, Ems! Roddybaby is not going to run to your parents because I dropped some hints." He tries to appease me after he rescued himself from the first-years – who seemed strangely happy he had thrown them all to the ground – and caught up to me again.

I snort scornfully at that. "You can rely on Rod in that case and if my words didn't cut a figure with him, well then my parents are going to send me a Howler and then are going to come here personally. Damn it! – I don't need this shit right now."

"Your folks deify you and they always thought of me as their future son-in-law. "

"The former could actually be true." I knock him back again and muddle along. "But I can't risk it anyway to soil my reputation in the family because of such a chicken-feed, understood?!"

"What kind of reputation?" asks Chester with an aggressive voice – he is really sensitive, that poor boy …

"I'm a model pupil, the ready witted that always wins out over everybody, the upholder of moral standards, and the … I'm just everything positive and respectable, okay?"

"Of course, Miss Haughtiness."

"That wasn't meant to be haughty but factual. That's just how it is. Dear me, why am I justifying myself?! – You're annoying!"

"Yeah, you, too!" defies Chester and looks straight ahead. I'm silent for a moment and then I ask a bit impeaching: "Why are we fighting so much lately because of unimportant things?"

"Because we're both annoying."

"You're not funny."

"Thanks neither are you!"

"Great."

"Great."

"Great!" I groan unnerved. We're turning around a corner and I got the perfect view of a phenomenon I didn't think existed – Regulus Black, completely alone. He leans against the wall in a corridor that is opposite of the Great Hall, which means he is on the right side of the corridor out of which I'm coming at the moment. Merlin, that's complicated. Let's just say he's nearer to the Slytherin common room than the Great Hall and I saw him only because I had been deliberately looking the exact opposite way that Chester does.

I'm parting ways with my friend rather abrupt which he notices with careful lack of interest and continues his way to the Great Hall and I'm roaming towards the enemy … err, sorry … towards one of the honorary students. My knees are doddering somehow which makes me angry. I mean, who was that guy anyway? Just an inferior Slytherin! Right, I can't do anything wrong. They are accustomed to anything after all: chadbands, schmucks, dumb-asses, liars and much more. And if I offered him a mixture of everything he's supposed to feel homey, right?

Regulus is leaning – like I saw from afar – against the cold stonewall and holds a book in his hands with which he is pretty preoccupied as it seems because he has a crease between his eyes. The night black hair is falling into his face with a casual elegance and frames his face rather handsome. His lips are sensual and gently pink whereon his nose can be taken as manly - it isn't hooked or somehow inordinate but it isn't the pure innocence either. It looks like the nose of a Greek athlete: I visited a Greek exhibition in the summer for antique artifacts and the statue of Hercules – the naked Hercules, that goes without saying – and that burned abiding memories into my brain. I can't grumble over Regulus' physique either. He has the perfect proportions – slim legs, slim hips, a muscled belly, broad shoulders, marvelously formed upper arms and adorable hands.

"Can I help you somehow or do you want to continue starring at me free and easy, hm?" asks the owner of the mentioned above body absolutely factual. I mean, there is no mockery, scorn or odium in his voice which is probably what irritates me more than the fact a Slytherin caught me while eyeing his appearance a bit closer than usual.

"I am –"

"Emily Amandus, I know." He scoops me again without even looking at me – and I'm really perplex which is pretty rare with me.

"Shoe size?"

Now he lifts his head up with a wrinkled forehead. "What?"

"That was a joke. I was just surprised you knew my name."

He raises his eyebrows and I ask myself how many muscles he can move simultaneously.

"We've been going to the same school for six years."

"Wow – that totally slipped my mind up until now!" I say sarcastically whereon my opposite closes his book without a sound and gives me a very close and checking look.

"What can I do for you, Emily?" he asks and it sounds darned sober.

"I … well …."

"Did they ask you to do a test of courage? I know that you're not here out of your own prompting – so what is it?"

Good grief – when was I taken aback like that the last time? I can't remember.

"It's not a test of courage." What retaliation, really remarkable. I'm surpassing myself here.

"What is it then? Blackmailing, stress analysis, a jovial act? Come on, just tell me!"

And then – I don't know what's getting me – I tell him the stupidest thing I've ever said in my entire life.


	4. Pride and Prejudice

Chapter Three

Pride and Prejudice

„It's nothing like that. I … well, maybe you noticed that I defended you in Potions yesterday – you know, I think I've time for you. Very much at that. I think you're nice and that's why I've plucked up my courage and spoke to you. It really hurts me that you imply that my intentions have been … bad. That I'm only here for a dare or something."

Regulus' face doesn't betray an emotion at all but his nearly black eyes examine me so strongly that I nearly stop to breathe. "Bullshit." He buzzes with a hint of keenness in his voice and lifts himself up to his full height – he overtops me by nearly fifteen inches what kind of frightens me. I'm alone in a quite secluded corridor with a seemingly angry Slytherin after all. "I loathe liars more than anything in the world, Emily."

I swallow hard because I nearly lose myself in the night black eyes of my opposite and almost disregard the earnestness of the situation.

"You're a Slytherin." Oh Merlin! Had I actually said that? How can you be so dimwitted as to emphasize your opponent's putrid character resulting from his parentage?! I mean it's not like I told a lie or something but some people just can't live with the truth.

Regulus doesn't seem fazed, at least not on the outside. An attentive observer – like me – though notices the little twitch around his right eye, which can only announce calamity.

"You mean to say that because I'm associated with the house of Slytherin I accept the despicable weaknesses of the human species, yes?"

"Quite so." I retort audaciously and elongate my chin rather defying whereas I ask myself when I'll receive the control over my body back.

"Well, then I have to tell you that you are illiberal and small minded."

"Really? – Then help me to broaden my horizon."

"In your case that would be – I think – love's labor's lost."

I snort despicably at that. "Maybe you are in the right there. Oh yes, it was a mistake to even consider having a normal conversation with a snake."

"So you mean your pretended sympathies for me have vanished? Just like that?" he scoffs and arches an eyebrow at me.

"Exactly. And now I have to confess my undying love to your brother." Well, did I mention that I can't keep my mouth shut and that I keep on saying things that aren't really subserving to me and my social environment?

"That's your bet?" he asks dryly what causes me to fold my arms across my chest in defiance.

"Why do you believe that?"

"Well, I didn't contemplate the chance of a bet up until now but it seems to be just the case. The blonde Ravenclaw seemed to be connected somehow, you know, the one that's nuts about my lovely brother?" He wrinkles his forehead in thought. "So it's a bet – What do you have to do with me, eh?"

I think my facial expression darkens considerably. "Why do you count on your composite gift? You could be totally wrong and making a fool out of yourself right now, with your paranoid conjectures. It could be possible that I just wanted to find out which Black at this school pleased me more and I decided Sirius was the one."

"No." says Regulus and the lone word crawls rather sober over his lips.

"No?" He starts to walk towards the Great Hall and I follow him naturally just to look at him inquiringly.

"It may be my distinct ability to read people or my observing skills that led me to the conclusion that this is a bet. Because you hate Sirius so why would you confess your undying love to him if it weren't a bet?"

"Well, there's the possibility that I just pretended to hate him so that I didn't have to show my true feelings, because I've been hurt too often by the so called stronger sex. Which is why I'm just worried about my heart." Regulus looks at me kind of condescending but my statement seems to be the only reason for that, not the fact that I'm - in the eyes of many – an inferior Hufflepuff.

"Where is your illiberal mind when you need it, eh? Because it's a given that we Slytherins know every facet of hate and abhorrence known to mankind. So you can't delude me."

I remain silent. I'm beat and stare straight ahead. Who does he think he is? He can't induce the Queen, no what am I saying … the empress of discussions to give up just because of an argument that dense. What cheek! Regulus shoves his hands into his pockets and clamps the book between his arm and body.

"Wonderful. Now we can go back to my original question. What do you have to do to win the bet?"

I keep on staring straight ahead and pout a bit. He can think of me what he wants. I can see out of the corners of my eyes that Regulus tips his head and looks at me with an amused spark in his eyes. I ask myself why his anger about my statement of lies and Slytherins seemed to have vanished already. Perhaps he sees now that I have every reason to be petty to his kind? Or his questionably success in our discussion appeased him. Whatever.

"You should be happy that I am this cooperative. I could be angry that you just want to use me, you know." I squint at him, inspecting.

"If I tell you what I have to do with you do I have your permission automatically?"

Regulus shrugs. "Maybe."

"Maybe? That's too vague for me."

"Well, you'll have to take that risk if you want to avoid the fatal indignity."

"Come on, it wouldn't be that fatal." I parry boldly.

"Oh please, not again!" says Regulus jokingly annoyed and I narrow my eyes to slits. This can't be happening, how can we be so close and actually joke about my – occasional – argumentation addiction?! He really is the personified arrogation. Clearly, I'm not going to acquiesce that.

"Okay. You'd just have to go to Hogsmeade with me." I say with a cool voice. Well, that wasn't the spicy reply I would have liked to hand to him, but well … you have to act tactical sometimes. It's a real piece of cake baked by Fortuna herself that Regulus seems to be so cooperative. I mean, I hadn't counted on the fact that he would be so amiable and talkative. Maybe he's just acting, but hey! That doesn't concern me at the moment, main thing I win the bet and plunge Fara-Mousie into her well-deserved personal ruin. Oh yes, I can be malicious and accounting at times.

"Dear Merlin, to hear something that immoral out of your mouth turns my view on the world upside down." Jokes Regulus again and I can't help myself.

"What did you think, eh? That we had to fuck on the professor's podium?!" Holy Mother Mary I didn't just say that! I didn't even know that the obscene word "fuck" existed in my vocabulary to being with. If my grandfather had heard that he'd probably disinherit me three times in a row and my father would have fainted.

But what can I say? Regulus' facial expression would have been worth it. He looks a bit like I had just slapped him in the face or like he just walked against a wall.

"Don't say something like this ever again!" he growls to my surprise and stares punitively at me.

"Oh yeah?! And why not?!" Peace used to be! I'm furious and immoderately venomous – it's going to be dangerous. In these kinds of situations I'm a bit out of control after all.

"Because it's not like you."

I stop dead in my tracks because I'm so angry and can't help but grunt a bit because of my boundless outrage.

"You don't even know me, Slytherin! How can you assume what is like me and what isn't?! What the hell?! You can't presume to give orders to me, to be so exorbitantly arrogant and claim to have such a great knowledge of the human nature. You just don't know me, got that?! Don't you ever dare again to stuff me into a drawer!"

Regulus, who, too, has stopped now, looks at me with an expression in his pitch-black eyes that I can't really interpret. But then again, I don't give a damn shit about it.

I go through my hair in a slightly hysterical motion and then amend, slightly tart-tongued:

"It's going to be much easier to bear the humiliation than to spend time with an ignorant asshole like you!" I stare at him with a spiteful glint in my eyes and strut away with my head held high. I don't forget that Fara said that Regulus attacks girls from behind. But likewise I don't forget my pride either by running away like a chicken. No, I leave him behind using a peaceful pace. At least someone could engrave the following into my tombstone: She died with dignity and decency. As it turns out, Regulus doesn't wish to run after me to kill me, so I reach the Great Hall in one piece.

Do you know the saying "to jump out of the frying pan into the fire"? It's certainly true in this case. I'm thrown directly into a fight that I would have liked to witness from the sidelines, not here, preferably with popcorn. Lily Evans, hysteric and nerd by trade (not that those are bad attributes), as well as a bra burner and a constant attachment to James Potter (what a contradiction, right?), hair as red as fire, green eyes (Chester's are way prettier) and owner of a body to dream of, knocks me down so I find myself on the floor mere seconds after entering the Great Hall.

"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to do that." She says and rubs her shoulder, with which she had knocked me to the ground – _gently_ of course.

"Are you alright, Lils? Did you hurt yourself?" James Potter seems to have missed the fact that I'm the victim here, but that's nothing new. He looks guilty. Of course, since he's most likely responsible for the fight. My experience tells me that.

"I'll help you up", says Lily with fake calm but honest helpfulness. I reach for her hand – my face contorted because of the pain in by behind. Once I'm standing again, Potter tries to apologize again.

"Lily, Darling. You misunderstood me, I swear. I … that was a joke between Sirius and me. Nothing important. Really, you have to believe me. You're my all in all." He makes puppy eyes at her and I feel the urge to vomit. I mean, "Lily-Darling" is just disgusting and the begging …

"Don't believe a word he's saying – this is just a put-up job." Why do I do that? Well, I hate Potter and my anger about Regulus needs to be dealt with somehow.

Lily looks surprised and forgets Potter's pathetic whining.

"That's none of your business, Hufflepuff." I mentally applaud him because he's just making matters worse for himself. He basically shot himself in the leg.

"That's exactly what I mean!" The red-haired bombshell looks furious. "You're so arrogant and haughty. You think you're better than everyone else and have a right to look down on people. Just because they're in Hufflepuff doesn't give you the right to be so mean to them! I'm really making an effort to overlook your flaws and just see the good things, but – you know what, James?! You're making it harder and harder. I'm your girlfriend, okay?! You have to respect me and not laugh about me behind my back with your idiotic friends!"

"But I didn't, honey! I respect you and I just yelled at shorty because it's none of her business…" And there goes the other leg. I smile gleefully.

"Shorty?! You are derogatory without even meaning to! That's it. I'm serious. I don't want to fight with you anymore, at least not today. I'm going to leave the Hall and if you follow me, we're over. Got it?!"

The Quidditch player nods faithfully and looks hurt, I almost pity him. Alas, almost is the word. Lily turns away from him, looks at me apologetically and leaves the scene. Potter follows her with his eyes and looks truly sad. The second the doors close behind Lily, he turns to me. He looks murderous.

"Why did you do that?"

I smile sweetly. "Well, everyone thinks Hufflepuffs are so good and nice. Who would ever doubt me? Why not use that?"

"Are you angry with me or what is that supposed to mean?"

"Is your brain function impaired or why do I have to tell you what things mean?" This is so awesome.

"Um?" He furrows his brows. Attacking from behind seems to be very effective. The _Lions_ would never expect someone from Hufflepuff to attack them like this. And when it happened anyway … their brains are obviously overwhelmed. What were they supposed to do? Retaliate and risk losing a myriad of house points because they were attacking someone obviously weaker than them?

"Okay, that's answer enough. You know, I'm not like that so I'll help you. Read the book _Humans in Primordial Times_ by Miranda Stonehenge! I bet you could learn some communication skills from _homo erectus_. Don't be deterred by his 'Ugga Ugga!' because even though it may not seem like it, he's much better developed like you."

I turn away from him and enjoy his total lack of words. Isn't it awesome being a Hufflepuff?


	5. Lucky Devil

What is this? A new chapter? You guessed it! I'm still on my semester abroad in Brussels, but it's raining like crazy here and I don't feel like going out. So translating seemed like a good alternative, what with studying Translation and all … I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 4**

– Lucky Devil –

Next morning, I have to get up at a seriously ungodly hour – oh, how I hate Wednesdays – in order to get to McGonagall's Transfiguration class on time. Prior to running in the general direction of the classrooms, I gobble down a slice of toast. Before I can reach said classrooms, though, a certain person holds me back.

"Hufflepuff! Hey, wait up!" I sigh – it could have been a good day! – and turn around. Beverly, Cindy, Cassandra and Fara approach me in lockstep and with identical looks of doom. One could almost start to panic …

"You have never heard of any kind of courtesy, I guess?" I ask dryly and feign absolute disinterest, which makes Fara snort.

"You think you're something special?!"

"Is that a trick question?" I smile at her.

"So, it's not enough to badmouth Sirius – no! – you had to attack James, too, and insult him! You're scum! Lily is the only one we could bear to relinquish our possibilities to and you have nothing better to do than create more problems for them? Really, you should be ashamed of yourself."

I snap my fingers at her, as if I just had an epiphany. "Now I know where my deja vu stems from! Have you read 'The Powdered Vigilantes'? Great book, and you four are so much like the protagonists."

"That's not funny, Hufflepuff! Merlin – I'd like to curse the hell out of you, but that would be cowardly of me, considering your abilities. One should always protect the weak, after all, no matter how stupid they are."

I just shrug. "Well, can't do anything about that. You could pour concrete over my feet, though, and throw me into the ocean – because that would totally fit your attitude. Can I call you by Italian names?"

"What?" Fara frowns with a confused look on her face, she obviously can't follow me. She isn't the first …

"You're right. The lake will have to do, considering how far away the next ocean is. But it doesn't really matter, does it? I doubt that much of the drama would be lost."

"Hufflepuff, you're not talking sense. But you should take your hat off to Sirius and his friends, because they're much older and smarter than you. Granted, that's not much of a feat. Also, you should know that we will be visiting Hogsmeade this weekend, which means that's the deadline for our bet. You have only three days left."

My smile doesn't waver and I decide to wait until Saturday to tell Fara about my surrender. No need to dispel the excitement just yet. I decide to talk some nonsense to confuse her some more.

"What? No evil revenge? I insulted your Jamsey-honey. You have to do something! How about … scratching 'Beware, outcast!' into my arm? Or 'Beware of cooties!'? That's a little primitive but also nostalgic, right? But … wait, no! It'd be brilliant if you scratched 'Kick Me!' into my back! I'd just have to wear a backless shirt and be the star of the evening!"

Fara wrinkles her nose. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I'm just a little masochistic."

"Okay, you're a freak!"

"Suum cuique – for the less knowledgeable: To each his own." I say with unchanged buoyancy.

"Veni, vidi, vici." Chester appears in my field of vision. "I came, I saw, I conquered, ladies. Write it down," he says with a remarkably captivating voice and raises an eyebrow which throws Fara for a loop. Beverly doesn't seem to have that problem because she starts giggling.

"Good morning, beautiful!"

"Good morning, Bev." Chester smiles disarmingly. "Want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" He asks her, while I ask myself whether my hearing just failed me. Did my comrade-in-arms for equality seriously just say this?

"Have you changed sides, Ches?" I ask him and yes – I am somewhat piqued! I also send him one of my very derogatory looks, which he ignores.

"I'd love to! Can you pick me up in front of my common room?" Beverly ignores the aghast looks of her friends.

"Sure," Chester replies and winks at her. I want to ask him whether there is something in his eye.

"Well, we have Herbology so we'll see each other around, I suppose," she says and turns away with the other Gryffindors. I turn around without another word and can't suppress a shake of my head. Chester soon catches up with me.

"You don't have a right to be mad at me, Ches, because it's your fault we started fighting."

"Why do you think I'm mad?"

I look at him with the intention to annihilate him where he stands. "Sure, Bev-honey-baby-darling-sweety-poo." I imitate him and shake my head again. Chester shows me his immaculate teeth by grinning like an idiot.

"Pray tell, are you jealous?"

I snort. "Jealous?! Have you lost your mind?! I'm mad at you because you want to provoke me by dating that Gryffindor bimbo. But like I said – you have no reason to be mad at me, because I didn't do anything! You couldn't keep your mouth shut in front of Rodrick."

"Snap out of it, okay? You really think I would go to such lengths just to pull your leg? Seriously, Ems. I just thought since you want to go to Hogsmeade with Blacky-Sweety that I'd have to look for a date. Et voila: I notice the hot lioness and take that chance. That's all, okay?"

"It seems like Black-Sweety and I won't work out."

"Impossible!"

Sarcasm is dripping from the word and I clench my teeth, to avoid saying something stupid. Because a lot of stupid things are on my mind right now.

"Well, go on! I'd like to know why the hell it didn't work out between you two? Considering how you were made for each other! Really, I already thought about names for your children – Regula and Emilio. Isn't that sweet?"

"No, it's a little demented actually. If you don't shut up I will have to hurt you." We enter the classroom and we're actually on time!

"Oh, Ems! You know I don't like SM much." Chester grins a crooked grin at me. I head butt him which leads to him headlocking me with some expertise. He even dares to tousle my hair. When I can finally free myself – and I can literally feel my hair starting to fly since it's now statically charged – Chester can't contain a giggle. "Ems, you should get a mohawk as well, looks dashing on you."

I don't get an opportunity to retort because Regulus Alphard Black enters the classroom. I usually share this class with two Slytherins, but the gossip is that Demetrius Bulstrode sustained a nasty head injury during their last Quidditch training session. I stare at Regulus even though I don't really know why. I mean, I look horrible why should I draw attention to myself?

Well, it doesn't matter now because Mr.-Know-It-All looks at me only for a fraction of a second with a very weird look in his eyes. Then, he sits down a couple of rows away from me. I stare some more but I sit down as well because Professor McGongall enters the classroom and starts the lesson almost immediately.

"Now I'm curious! What happened between you and Black?" whispers Chester.

"Nothing!"

"Come on, Ems! Please tell me! We're friends."

"No."

"We're not friends? That's surprising."

"No, I'm not going to tell you."

"Emiiily... tell, tell, tell!"

I kick him in the shins and he fails to contain a low sound of pain. "Ow, you sadist! I only want to know about your love life."

"Please, you only want to laugh at my expense."

"Was it funny? I never thought Black had any humour to be honest. Or did you pull out your horrible mudblood joke?"

"I don't even know any mudblood jokes. Besides, you should say muggleborn jokes."

"Yes, but you should, too."

We're silent for a while and I even understand what Professor McGongall is trying to teach us with her talk about how to turn a desk into a pig. I don't really see when I could possibly use a charm like that. Maybe during a famine when you have to eat your desk? It's a little stupid, if you ask me.

"I know one," whispers Chester thoughtfully.

"One what?"

"A Muggleborn joke. "

"From where?"

"Dad."

"Asshole!"

"Yeah. Do you want to hear it, though?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course not."

"Ha! You know what? I'm going to tell you anyway – if you don't tell me what happened between you and Blacky-Boy."

"Sod you!" I growl a little and Professor McGonagall looks in our direction.

"Is there something you want to share with the class, Miss Amandus?"

"Well, we were talking about how we could use the spell you were talking about in the real world." I immediately talk about the thoughts I had previously entertained myself with.

"Are you criticizing the subject matters that have been taught at this school for generations and have never been doubted before, Miss Amandus?"

Ouch. Did she get up on the wrong side of the bed? Most likely the Marauders made some trouble and I have to face her anger about that. Me – the poor, innocent Hufflepuff. Great.

"Can you tell me any good reason why I would want to turn my desk into a pig?"

Chester stares and I wish to be able to follow his example because I'm on dangerous territory here. McGonagall is known for her neutral behaviour toward all houses. She has punished Hufflepuffs as well as Slytherins quite severely. Usually I would have applauded her but now …

"Please," I add in a small voice but before McGonagall can add a voice to her look of doom, there is a knock on the door. I make a mental note to send the visitor some flowers and kisses.

"Come in!" barks Professor McGonagall. The door opens and the visitor struts into the classroom with a dimwitted grin on his lips. Well … about those kisses …

"Mr Black?"

"Please excuse the interruption, Professor McGongall." Professor McGonagall waves his excuse away with a look that says 'Talk or disappear, whichever is faster'. "But Professor Slughorn asked me to hand out his invitations."

Professor McGonagall raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me, but shouldn't you be brewing potions instead of handing out questionable invitations?"

Sirius waves his hand at her and smiles at the girls in the front row. What an all-round talent … "A potion that I can't brew has yet to be invented. Professor Slughorn thought it best to send me."

"Well, to throw a party like that in the middle of the week doesn't seem very sensible to me."

"But Professor, the party won't go on until dawn. Besides, only sixth and seventh years are invited and I think they can decide for themselves whether that party is going to harm their studies."

Professor McGonagall looks at him quizzically and then nods. "Well, hand out your invitations then but get back to your classroom as fast as you can."

"Sure." He starts to move through the classroom, throws an invitation at Regulus, goes over to Gwenog Jones (the star of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team), to Elliot Masey (whose father owns the Daily Prophet), to Malvin Cornell (who's very gifted at Arithmancy and his father owns a gigantic observatory – and then he stops at my desk. I'm not really surprised because Slughorn has been inviting me to his stupid parties ever since my fourth year.

Black looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes and puts the little envelope down on my desk with torturing slowness. I'd love to wipe that arrogant smile off his lips. "We will see each other tonight, _Emily_." He stresses my name and looks me deep into the eyes. "I'm looking forward to it."

Before I can say anything, he struts away from me (with a sexy smile towards a couple of girls who all blush like crazy) and towards Professor McGonagall. He looks at the half-transformed desk, which is actually a rectangle made out of wood with the legs and tail of a pig.

"Oh, you're still transforming your desk into a pig? I thought that after my remark last year you'd have switched to something more amusing for the students. But I guess some things never change."

"Get out!" barks Professor McGonagall and points at the door. Black takes a couple of steps backwards.

"Easy – did you get up on the wrong foot?"

"Mr Black, you fulfilled you task so would you please stop disrupting my lesson with your misplaced commentary!"

"Okay, okay." He looks at the students one last time and than finally leaves the classroom.

I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. And just where my pride is located.

"It appears as though you have met your soul mate, huh?" Chester giggles next to me because of which I look at him with one my looks – one that would have made anyone's blood run cold. Anyone's but his it seems. He continues to grin.

"We just made the same comment. That doesn't mean we're soul mates, okay?!"

"That's what Juliet said to Romeo."

"Okay, so I'll just kill myself with a dagger now to spare me the pain." I growl at him.

"But Ems, every Ying will find his Yang at some point."

"Say that again and I'll put you six feet under."

"Every dog has its day."

"Shut up!"

McGonagall seems a little distracted because of the interruption because she touches her forehead before continuing. "Can we please continue this lesson?"

I raise my hand hesitantly and she stares at me with a death stare. "Um, Professor. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour just now. It was wrong to doubt your competence and it will never happen again. Excuse me – I forgot myself."

Her eyes look lighter and she seems almost relieved. "Well, if that is the case, Miss Amandus, I will forgive you of course. But you will still hand in three rolls of parchment tomorrow concerning the development and use of this transformation with the help of the library."

I stare at my desk. "Of course, professor."

"Since that is settled, we will continue with our lesson. I will show you the spell again and then you can try it for yourself."

Out of the corners of my eyes I can see that Regulus is smiling and shaking his head. I turn away from him completely and Chester leans towards me.

"Which Black is it supposed to be, Ma'am?" Since his voice sounds like he's a butcher behind a meat counter I don't have to think hard.

"Neither, I'll take the bacon, please." 


	6. Don't Worry - Be Happy

Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy it. I'm still on to this, but as of right now I have NOTHING in store … which means it will take me about as much time as this one did to translate the next chapter. But I'll give you the title, just as a teaser at the end of this chapter!

Chapter 5 Don't worry – be happy

When I'm on my way to Slughorn's party at 8 o'clock – like it says on the stupid invitation – I'm humming an indefinable melody and strolling through the dim corridors. My mood is not exactly that good which is why I'm wearing dark clothing. Yes, even my underwear is dark purple.

I don't even want to go to that party because these kinds of parties were never really my thing, but if I don't go Mr God of Love might think I'd be too intimidated or was afraid of meeting him. I mean sure, generally I don't care what Sirius thinks of me, but I don't like being portrayed as the frightened mouse that runs away from possibly problematic encounters. No, I always get my way and I take every opportunity to make that clear to everybody. So if Sirius is going to grace me with his annoying presence, I'd just cut him off and take pleasure in my life.

And concerning Regulus … - well, I doubt that he'll cause problems tonight because he knows I'd just put him in his place again and he wouldn't be able to defend himself because of the witnesses. I think him intelligent enough to avoid me.

After a few minutes I've reached the location of the party and enter the already quite full room. Surely no other professor has an office this big. Not even Dumbledore can keep up with the extent of over the top luxury. Again, I ask myself why Slughorn hadn't chosen the way of an interior designer for too rich people – I'm sure he could have gone a long way.

"Hello, Emily", Malvin Cornell, the Arithmancy ace of the school, greets me shyly and straightens his colossal glasses.

"Malvin." I smile at him, but I have to suppress the urge to make a comment about his love for chequered patterns. He's the poster child of a nerd and a pedant, and his clothes really just underline that fact.

"Do you want to … uhm … drink something?" I hear his question but my attention is captivated by someone entirely different. Gilderoy Lockhart, who his currently walking the catwalk for _Hexima Moda,_ is talking to Professor Slughorn. My goodness! – The connections this man has so that even the prominent figures of the magical world attend these parties. I have to pull myself together, in order to avoid undressing Gilderoy with my eyes. I'm not superficial, but how do you say? You have to appreciate the beauty of nature, and this man is most certainly beautiful! Oh, the dreamy smile, and the even, striking features, the alabaster body, and the inimitable taste in clothing.

Gilderoy's smile diminishes somewhat when he notices my severe look. Why severe? Well, I'm just not one of the small minded girls that catapult the egos of men like him into the vast sky by idolizing them. I definitely have too much pride for such crudity. It should be enough that _I_ know what I think of men. Besides, Lockhart's character is said to be plain awful, if you can believe _Witch Weekly_. He is said to be selfish, artificial and unbelievably conceited. Of course, I'd rather form my own opinion about people before I believe articles like this, but I don't think I'll need to make the effort of getting to know Lockhart better. There are people you know enough about at first glance.

"Um, Emily?" Malvin asks again and strokes his immaculately bound, chequered tie.

"What? – Oh, Malvin. Yes, I'd like something to drink."

He nods relieved and mumbles something like: "I'll get us something then", and walks to the buffet. I stand there alone for a moment, until Slughorn walks over with Lockhart. My professor is smiling like an idiot and seems to be quite happy. Gilderoy, on the other hand, looks at me with a strange distance in his eyes.

"Miss Amandus, how nice you chose to attend my little gathering. Your charm and humour always enrich my parties."

"I do what I can."

"Exactly. This is Gilderoy Lockhart. I'm sure you know him due to the magazines or possibly fashion shows?"

"Now that you mention it, Professor – I just recently read an article about him in _Witch Weekly_."

Lockhart pouts and his tone becomes somewhat indignant. "Oh, now I understand why you didn't ask for an autograph – that article must have put you off. My true character must have escaped that dreadful reporter. I have never met someone with such poor knowledge of human nature before. She totally misjudged me."

He sighs theatrically and I respond dryly: "Oh yes, that happens to me all the time, too."

Speaking of, I notice Regulus moving through the party crowd. He looks completely indifferent to the happenings around him and takes a sip from the glass in his hand.

"It's abominable, isn't it? Oh, one works so hard to please everyone and then one is stabbed in the back. It's really hard to be part of the crème de la crème when you're as young as me."

"You have my heartfelt sympathy." My smile is sweet enough to deter both men from the sarcasm.

"Well, now that you have met Miss Amandus, I just have to introduce you to another excellent student and outstanding conversationalist – I'm sure you know his older cousin Narcissa Black?" Slughorn interrupts us happily and gently strokes his stomach.

Gilderoy's smile is blinding. "I entered Hogwarts when Narcissa was about to leave it. Oh my, she is such a charming little thing. Impeccable beauty and sensibility."

"Oh yes, that is certainly true!

"You mentioned a cousin of hers is here?"

I have a feeling that nothing good could come of this and surely I'd have left by now if Slughorn wasn't watching me like a hawk. Great. Where did that Malvin wander off to, anyway? It's be great if he showed his kindness by saving me from this disaster.

Slughorn nods eagerly and beckons somebody closer. I'm actually relieved when Regulus walks over to us and not Sirius, who I haven't seen yet.

He greets both of the men with a nice but cool smile and then almost stares me to the ground with his jet-black eyes (black eyes always seem to stare, don't they?). "Emily."

"Regulus." I'm kind of glad that my voice is absolutely neutral and not furious or anything like that.

"I was just telling Gilderoy that you two belong to my best sixth year students", Slughorn explains kindly and looks expectantly at Regulus, who looks even more distanced if possible.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I can't seem to place Mr Lockhart right now. In which line of business is he?"

Lockhart looks outraged and somewhat insulted. "Don't tell me you haven't read the article?"

"Which article?" Regulus asks politely but it's hard to miss that he's enjoying this conversation.

"Well, the article that forced you to abandon your admiration of me and pretend to not know me at all!"

I give a low, derisive laugh because Lockhart's facial expression is very impressive. It seems like he can't decide between self-knowledge and outrage. Poor thing. He has definitely met the wrong people tonight.

"Which house do you two belong to, may I ask? Slytherin?" He asks us, with hurt pride and a sharp edge to the question. I choke on my laugh and puff in a tone of outrage.

"What makes you think that, Mr Lockhart?! I'm a Hufflepuff!"

Gilderoy takes a step back and looks shocked. "A Hufflepuff? But why are you so… so…"

"Vicious and aggressive?" Regulus offers flatly. Slughorn seems amused because he's still grinning like an idiot.

"Exactly."

I look at him condescendingly and counter that insult. "If you think that you can put people into neat drawers just because of their behaviour, then I have to tell you that you're morbidly ignorant."

Gilderoy gasps and doesn't say anything, so Regulus takes the opportunity to say something. "You like to call other people ignorant, don't you?"

"Only if they deserve it."

"So you think it's proper to insult the guest of honour of your authoritarian professor by calling him ignorant?"

"I don't like to hide my honest opinion." I exclaim and notice that Gilderoy tries and fails to enter our conversation.

"But what if you judge too soon and too harshly to understand a person's story? You would have killed the mood for no good reason _and_ made yourself unpopular in one go."

"I can count on my ability to judge character and I know when someone is ignorant. I don't have to know their story."

"If that is so, then I ask myself why you're talking to someone in a nice and polite fashion, when you called him ignorant before, to get him to help you? You should have known immediately that was love's labour's lost."

Well, that was ingenious of him, the way he manoeuvred this from the Lockhart-business to our first conversation. I'm not quite sure why he did that, but it was ingenious. "Well, there are very rare cases when even I make a mistake."

Regulus raises his eyebrows and Gilderoy finally gives up trying to interrupt our conversation. "Remarkable! Can I congratulate you on that revelation?"

"Oh, you could buy me chocolate and some flowers." I offer cynically and stare at him with an angry face.

"I'd love to."

We stare at each other, both trying to avoid blinking or showing any sign of weakness. I've never noticed before how frighteningly deep Regulus' eyes are. Suddenly the panicked thought, that I could fall into that deep tunnel and not get out without a rope ladder, hits me – somewhat creepy.

"It seems we're surplus here, Gilderoy, so let's take a look at the buffet." Slughorn offers and takes the outraged and miffed Lockhart with him to the food and drink across the room.

Before I can say anything to Regulus – not that I'd know what to say – Malvin appears next to us and hands me a glass without a word. I take my eyes off the Slytherin and stare at Malvin reproachfully.

"Where were you? It would have been grand if you could have saved me from that trouble. Besides, I nearly died of thirst."

Malvin glances at Regulus who just stares back, as cool as ever, and Malvin starts explaining in a small voice. "Well, I… I… and you… I didn't want to disturb you? You looked… well… you looked busy and everything. I didn't want to bother you."

I remind myself that Malvin is possibly the shyest person on earth and forgive him for his failure to lend assistance. He's too nice and too… I don't even know, he just makes me want to protect him. So I smile at him and finally take the glass. "That's alright."

He looks relieved and I take a big sip from the glass, which I immediately regret because it tastes abominable and reeks of alcohol. "Is that punch?"

"Err… yes."

"Why did you bring me punch?"

"I thought you wanted to drink alcohol."

"Do I have a drinker's nose or what?" My voice gets louder and becomes really aggressive. That's that for wanting to protect him. It was the same with my pet hamster as a kid. After it bit me for the fifth time, I gave it to Rodrick to experiment on. He's probably stuffed now in a glass case in Aunt Fiona's house.

"Err… I'm sorry?"

"You're sorry?! What's that you're drinking?"

"Pear spritzer."

I stare at him in bewilderment but I don't get a chance to reply because Regulus, who up until now only watched the spectacle, interrupts us. "Malvin, why don't you take the punch back and get Emily something else to drink?"

Malvin nods thankfully and reaches for the glass in my hand, but I sidestep him. "No!"

"Yes, of course!"

"Oh no!"

"You don't want to drink it, so just give it to me."

"I never said I didn't want to drink it." I can see the enjoyment flooding back into Regulus' eyes and that makes me mad.

"Why are you making such a fuss?"

"Because he should have asked me, instead of just palm alcohol off on me…"

"I didn't want to do that, Emily, I swear! You have to believe me! I didn't want to just give you alcohol like that! I can just get you something else, that's no problem and you don't need to be angry anymore. Please!"

I groan, I'm irritated and don't want to believe that I'm wasting my time with something like this. Then I just hand Malvin my glass and cough when he starts running towards the buffet.

"Why are you here alone?" Regulus asks without perceivable curiosity.

"What did you think Malvin was doing here?" He shoves his hands into his pockets and starts smiling this really small smile that makes the corners of his lips crinkle.

"Being a much overstrained Ravenclaw."

"Very funny." I pause for a second. „Why are you here alone?"

"I'm a loner." He flips a few black strands out of his eyes and suddenly I'd like to know what a shampoo he uses.

"Does your court know that?" I ask him with obvious doubt in my voice but Regulus doesn't answer me. Instead, he looks to the door. I don't even have to turn around to look who just entered the room because the mood in the room immediately lifts and the oestrogen of all the girls – except for me, of course – reaches high heaven. The Marauders enter the scene… Sirius' bark-like laugh makes my ears tingle, James is talking about his victories and Slughorn boasts about his best seventh years in front of Lockhart. Maybe the punch hadn't been such a bad idea – and what is taking Malvin so long again?

"Let's just go", Regulus suggests and his right eye is twitching like it always does when Sirius is close to us. Before I can exclaim my amazement at that strange proposition, someone puts his arm on my shoulders. A very expensive perfume and a lot of testosterone buzzes around my head and I feel the very explicable urge to vomit.

"Black, if you want to keep that arm you should take your hands off me!"

Sirius grins and his perfect teeth almost blind me. Almost. "Just admit it, babe, you've been waiting for me."

"If you mean that I was waiting on you to work off my aggression on you, then you're right." I reply and shrug out of his semi-hug. Sirius' grin becomes seductive.

"Your aggressions? Do you want to go somewhere else with me?"

"Sod off, Black, and annoy someone else with your presence!"

Sirius scrutinizes me for a short while, then throws one very disgusted look in Regulus' direction, grabs me by the arm to drag me a couple of feet away from his brother. My brain takes a while to make sense of what is happening which is why I'm not immediately protesting. Sirius looks at me forcefully, every sign of amusement vanished, and his hands are on my upper arms.

"Okay, Emily. I have to admit, our banter has been fun and all, but that was a step too far. You can't try to provoke me by spending time with that dodgy lindworm. That's not only wrong but also dangerous for you, okay? We can just go on a date or something, but stay away from him. That's not fun anymore."

I stare at him, absolutely flabbergasted. I don't quite understand what he's saying. He can't really have said that, can he?

I have two reactions to choose from and I decide on the latter, because there are too many people around to become violent. They'd just free serious from my headlock. So I just laugh. I laugh, giggle and bray until tears come to my eyes. I can't stop. It's just there and all my aggressions … yes, my endless, murderous fury transforms into laughter. Sirius's embarrassed expression just makes it worse and I think I'll have to choke to death, when …

To be continued in the next chapter: _Fuck the Clichés_! 


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